Love and Hermione
by Dobby's.Sock
Summary: Love and Hermione never seem to get along. But will her sixth year bring change in her relationship with Ron? What with Viktor Krum, two bleary eyed stalkers who cannot tell a cat apart from a boy, another ball and Dobby's idea of help?
1. Dobby's Visit

Love and Hermione

**Chapter 1: Dobby's Visit**

**Disclaimer: Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling, the most amazing writer ever :)**

_A/N: The chapters are quite short however I hope you enjoy the story! It is slightly slow moving. :) _

**Spoiler Warning – This story contains plot spoilers relating to 'Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince'**

"It has to do with ethics and morality Ron!" Hermione bellowed angrily across the small wooden table situated in a dark corner of the Gryffindor common room.

"What's the problem with me copying one measly paragraph from your ruddy essay?" replied Ron, equalling her volume.

"First of all Ron, no essay I have ever written has contained a measly paragraph! Every one of them has been as informative and profound as its predecessor!"

"Yeah…well whatever."

"We are in the sixth year now Ron. I won't always be here for you to copy fro-oh, goodnight Harry," Hermione turned to smile at Harry weakly.

"Yeah, night Harry," said Ron, before adding darkly, "I don't think I will be coming up to the dormitory for a while at this rate, especially because Hermione won't let me copy-"

"Oh be quiet for once in your life Ron!"

The squabbling grew fainter as Harry wearily climbed the stairs to his dormitory. He was ready to collapse onto his comfortable four poster when he noticed he was not alone. He had a visitor perched on the end of his unmade bed.

"Hi Dobby!" Harry smiled at the elf, who was still wearing Uncle Vernon's old socks.

"Dobby has been waiting for Harry Potter! Dobby is most glad to see you sir!"

"Is everything alright Dobby, or are you just popping in for a visit?"

"Oh, Dobby is pleased to visit Harry Potter at any time…but tonight Dobby would like to ask if Harry Potter would most amiably provide Dobby with some much needed advice!"

"Okay…go ahead," replied Harry in a curios tone.

"Ah, thank you sir. Well, does Harry know of the house elf Kreacher?" questioned Dobby squeakily.

"Do we have to talk about him because right now I'm not particularly in the mood," said Harry darkly.

"Oh please sir; just quickly sir? The problem is with Winky…Kreacher is causing her discomfort sir, and Winky is a nervous elf!"

"Why is he causing her discomfort?"

"Dobby knows things Harry Potter. Dobby knows that Kreacher is a friend of Mr. Malfoy, my old master. Mr. Malfoy is upset at the moment sir and Kreacher does not want to see him so sad-."

"I don't see any reason why even that scum should be worrying about Malfoy," interrupted Harry, firing up at this information.

"Well sir, Kreacher is wanting Winky to help him sir, because after Dobby, Winky is most closely in touch with bad, dark wizards because of Mr. Crouch the junior. Kreacher asked Dobby to help him to cheer Mr. Malfoy but Dobby would never, ever help! But if Winky does not help sir, I do not know what might come about. Kreacher is a bad elf sir, very bad!"

"Yeah, well anyone who can't see that is obviously not very bright," replied Harry. "Well what do you want me to do Dobby?"

"Dobby is not sure! Dobby was only wondering if Harry Potter, so brave and wise, would have any ideas?"

"If the problem is Winky having to help cheer up Malfoy, I don't think I am the right person to ask. I wouldn't know how to cheer that prat up, nor would I want to. If anyone deserves to feel miserable, it is him."

"Oh, Dobby knows sir. Dobby has not yet forgotten his life with the Malfoys. They are not decent wizards sir, no, they are not. But Dobby feels he must help Winky. Dobby does not wish to see Winky in such a bad state again, so worried she is!"

"Maybe you should go talk to someone in Slytherin. I think I know a few things that would cheer Malfoy up; but nothing that you or I would ever consider doing," Harry concluded with a heavy brow.

"Ah, that is a very fine idea sir! Dobby will most definitely talk to a Slytherin sir! But before Dobby is off, Dobby must inquire why Harry Potter has come to his dormitory so early in the evening? Dobby was planning to prepare Harry Potter's bed before he arrived!"

"It's Hermione and Ron Dobby," Harry replied in a dark tone, identical to the one he had used when discussing Malfoy. "Couldn't they give it a rest for one night? They've been at each other's throats for days now and I didn't want to sit there while they fought for the rest of the night so I came up here. I was glad to see you though," Harry concluded.

"Dobby will find a way to help both Harry Potter and Winky sir! Dobby is sure he can manage!"

Harry could not help breaking into a grin at the thought of what Dobby's idea of help had meant in the past.

"Thanks Dobby."

"But now Dobby must be on his way. Otherwise Dobby will not be able to speak to a Slytherin until tomorrow evening!"

And with a click of his fingers, the eccentric little elf disappeared in a wisp of smoke.


	2. The Mix Up

**Chapter Two: The Mix Up**

Dobby appeared with a quiet 'pop' in the dungeons where the Slytherin common room was located. It was awfully dark as someone had extinguished the torches. This was a common happening in the dungeons; whether the Slytherin students preferred the darkness, or whether they were hoping someone would lose their way or trip Dobby did not know. However this time, in the dank and inky blackness, Dobby, excited and in quite a rush, entered the wrong house elf entrance. There were several of these entrances within the dungeons; all were concealed by particularly mossy stones in the walls. When Dobby had entered the room beyond the entrance, he found himself within the potions classroom and received a fright when he found, despite the fact that it was late at night, the potions master Horace Slughorn pouring over a potion that was splashing cheerfully in a large cauldron. The scent wafting past Dobby's large nose was absolutely divine and, although house elves were usually not to be seen or heard, Dobby could not help slumping against the stone wall to relish the aroma. It was then that Slughorn noticed his presence.

"Ohoho, what have we here?" he said jovially before hiccupping richly, a bottle of Madam Rosmerta's finest mulled mead in his hand.

Dobby jumped to his feet at once and stared up in terror at Slughorn, who's round, velvet covered belly was considerably intimidating to a house elf of Dobby's size.

"Do..Dobby is very sorry Professor Sir! Dobby was meaning to enter the Slytherin common room to clean!"

"Now, now elf," said Slughorn, picking Dobby up with one hand by the tip of his woollen hat and placing him roughly on his desk. "Professor Slughorn doesn't mind visitors! Now, how would you like it if I told you about what I am making here at this time of night?"

Dobby, who was on the brink of speechlessness nodded stiffly. He thought it rude to refuse the professor's offer and furthermore, he was extremely curious regarding the deliciously scented substance.

"Ha! Even a house elf recognizes the irresistible… hiccup! ...smell of my Amortentia potion when he comes across it! You know what elf? I think that you…hiccup! …deserve some of my potion for you and your little friends! How about it, a nice vial of this _love_ly potion? Oho yes, it is _love_ly!" Slughorn chuckled drunkenly at is own joke. "But you do not know why it is such a special batch of Amortentia! You see, the essence of Belladonna regulates the length of time that the potion affects the user! I added the essence of a further two Belladonna leaves and the result is a curious little potion that last for a complete week!"

Before Dobby could even reply, Slughorn had filled a fine crystal vial with the strengthened Amortentia, forced it into Dobby's hands and pushed him out of the house elf entrance. In the dungeon passageway once more, a bewildered Dobby squinted down and the bottle he was holding. Forgetting about talking to a Slytherin student, he headed back towards the kitchens, stumbling in the darkness. He returned to find Tatia, a female elf, preparing some special cakes for a delegation of guests that Professor Dumbledore was meeting with. Dobby did not know what the effects of Amtent were, or whatever the name of the potion was; but judging by the aroma, it was sure to have positive effects on the user!

"Excuse Dobby Tatia; but would you mind if Dobby borrowed three of your cakes?"

"Tatia does not mind Dobby; there are too many! Please take three from this tray," Tatia replied.

Dobby took three of the small cakes and decided to add a drop of Amortentia to each of them but found that by the time he had doused the potion over one of the cakes, there wasn't enough for the other two. He had been planning to give one each to Harry's bickering friends and one to Draco Malfoy. At that moment, Winky scampered up to Dobby and asked for his help in scrubbing a particularly stubborn patch of grime from one of the stoves. As Dobby left the cakes, Kreacher, who had been spying on Dobby keenly from a corner, scampered up to the cake doused in potion and swiftly stored it under his dirty Hogwarts tea towel. He was going to give that cake to Mr. Malfoy. _Maybe Mr. Malfoy would be able to do something about the blood traitors and mudbloods at this horrible place if he was not so unhappy_, thought Kreacher as he left the kitchens.

Previous to his current delivery mission; Kreacher had begrudgingly cleaned the Gryffindor sixth year female dormitory. He was assigned to clean this particular dormitory every evening and constantly came across a hairbrush that never ceased to be in need of a clean. The wiry brown hair remained strewn over Kreacher's towel as he travelled towards the Slytherin common rooms. A few pieces dislodged from the towelling material and stuck to the sticky cake doused in potion. Under Kreacher's cloth, the cake suddenly warmed, before cooling once more.


	3. Loving Thoughts

**Chapter Three: Loving Thoughts**

**A/N: Part of this chapter is a parody of episode 1, series 1 of an Australian comedy, Kath and Kim****. If you have not watched this program, I highly recommend it!** _Also,_ **This is definitely a Ron and Hermione fan fiction :). I hope the last section of chapter two was comprehendible!**

Draco Malfoy awoke early the following morning in his dormitory. He had had a strange dream about a currant bun. Naturally, his dreams of late had been fitful and frightening; usually concerning You-Know-Who and the Vanishing Cabinet in the Room of Requirement. So you can understand why this dream had been most abnormal and curious. He sat up and wrapped his arms around himself; it was freezing cold. It was the middle of December and some filthy elf had forgotten to light the fire. He pulled back his green four poster curtains and glared at the hearth as though expecting to catch the culprit elf. He did however, see a cupcake. He walked over to the hearth and picked it up curiously. He sniffed it; it smelled good enough to eat. He glanced over at Crabbe who had not closed the curtains around his bed; he was lying on his back, his large mouth opened wide as he snored. Malfoy let out an audible 'ha'. The muffin obviously belonged to that oaf. He took a large and spiteful bite while staring at his friend; Crabbe definitely didn't need any more cake, thought Malfoy as he returned to his bed to finish the muffin.

Meanwhile, Ron had awoken early to finish his Transfiguration essay so he could have at least part of his Sunday free to spend leisurely. He sat down at the small table in the corner of the common room and looked down at his essay wearily. He raised his head to stare, bleary eyed at the expanse of table in front of him and noticed that someone had pressed too hard on their parchment with their quill and etched into the soft wood of the table. Ron turned his chair to inspect the handwriting and found that it was Hermione's. He expected the content to have something to do with Transfiguration and began to read the small amount of text greedily. However he was mistaken; the few words etched into the wood seemed to be an excerpt from a diary of some sort.

"_Sometimes I don't understand why I feel the way I do. How could I when the object of my affection is so..."_

These words interested Ron immensely. Who could Hermione be talking about? A familiar thought floated across his early morning mind and caused him to shake his red head violently. The truth was that he was afraid; he had never been very successful when it came to expressing how he felt, and he was sickeningly scared of the possible result of making this particular, recurring thought audible. Ron was brought out of his reverie by the sudden arrival of Harry in the common room. Tousle-haired and rubbing his eyes, Harry spotted, with blurry eyes the red hair and gangly body of his best friend sitting at the small table they had been seated around the previous evening. Harry slumped in a chair beside Ron and replaced his glasses. Ron quickly hid Hermione's writing with his essay and turned to look at Harry.

"Why did you get up so early Harry? I thought you said you'd finished your essay?"

"Yeah, I have. But I wanted to tell you about Dobby's visit last night."

Harry went on to explain to Ron about Dobby's problem with Winky and how he was trying to cheer up Malfoy. Ron was only half listening; he couldn't stop thinking about who Hermione had been writing about in her diary.

"So I'm going to keep an eye on Malfoy; I want to see what Dobby plans to do to help him; and knowing Dobby's way of trying to 'help' people, it could be interesting," Harry concluded with a smile.

Ron knew Harry was recounting the events of their second year. Dobby hadn't exactly been helpful; unless you classify almost getting them expelled and setting a rogue bludger on Harry at a Quidditch match helpful that is.

Harry let Ron finish his essay while he went to get dressed. He met Hermione on the stairs on the way back into the common room. She appeared to have calmed down after the previous night and had Crookshanks under her arm. She and Harry made their way back to Ron's table to find him hurriedly scrawling the last few lines of his essay.

"I hope your not rushing that Ron," said Hermione sternly.

"Ah no, I'm not rushing," replied Ron as he concentrated on his last line, feeling his ears heating at the sound of Hermione's voice.

"Ron, I-," Hermione began.

"Come on, let's go to breakfast," said Ron hurriedly, avoiding Hermione's eye.

Later that morning, Harry, Hermione and Ron, muffled in their warm cloaks, trudged through the thin layer of snow blanketing the grass in the grounds on their way to visit Hagrid. He had sent them a scrawly note with the owl post at breakfast asking them to pay him a visit.

Meanwhile, Draco Malfoy had something extremely unusual on his mind, or someone extremely unusual. And that person was Hermione Granger. He didn't know what had come over him, but he couldn't stop thinking about her. How beautiful she had looked at the Yule Ball the previous year and her amazing intelligence. Their mouths had fallen open as though they'd just seen the biggest tart in the world after he had suddenly blurted out that he loved her while the three were dressing for breakfast in the dormitory.

"I have to see her!" Malfoy cried dramatically.

"Uh, I don't get it Malfoy. What?" Crabbe questioned.

"You know her you idiot. The beautiful witch in Gryffindor who has unwisely chosen to befriend Potty and Weasley," Malfoy replied, his eyes glazed over, a rapt expression on his face.

"Malfoy, I'm sorry for this but…"

Goyle pounded Malfoy over the head in an attempt to bring Malfoy to his senses.

When Malfoy had proclaimed his love of Hermione to the other Slytherin sixth years, Pansy Parkinson was hysterical.

"What?!" she screeched upon hearing the news. "I can't believe it! What is wrong with you Draco? Why?"

Malfoy simply shook his head and gazed into the distance dreamily.

"This is sickening," said Pansy poisonously. "She will never even dream of fancying you anyway Malfoy. I've seen the way she looks at that pathetic Weasley."

Malfoy sat bolt upright in his seat. "No," he gasped. "I know that she doesn't like Weasley; you're wrong Parkinson."

"Well you'll never find out the truth; what are you going to do, stalk the girl or something?"

Malfoy addressed the idea seriously. "I can't do that, a desperate Slytherin is not a good look."

"What's wrong with looking desperate?" Crabbe ventured.

Malfoy stared at Crabbe, as though considering his statement.

"No…,"he said quietly. "No, I'm not going to follow Hermione…But Crabbe and Goyle are."

"Huh?" Crabbe and Goyle uttered thickly.

"You heard me you oafs; you are going to follow her and make sure that Weasley doesn't get in the way."

"Are you crazy Malfoy?" Pansy screeched maniacally.

Ignoring her comment, Draco stated with a familiar expression of smugness, "Ah…Crabbe and Goyle…you can make them carry out your every bidding and also, they make you look good just by comparison."


	4. Spells and Plans

**Chapter Four: Spells and Plans**

Knock, knock. Harry rapped on Hagrid's large cabin door. The three didn't have to wait long to escape the cold as the door was flung open almost immediately.

"Thanks fer comin' on such short notice," said Hagrid solemnly as Harry, Ron and Hermione seated themselves around the large, scrubbed wooden table.

"Oh Hagrid there isn't a problem, is there?" questioned Hermione, staring nervously into Hagrid's large face.

"Well, depends on wha' you think is a problem…," Hagrid began, glancing at Ron who was attempting to crack a rock cake on the side of his dish.

"What is it Hagrid?" questioned Harry.

"Well…" began Hagrid, "It seems as though Fred as' come down with a case o' spattergroit."

"What!" yelped Ron, upsetting his teacup.

"Now calm down Ron, it's not tha' bad. Yer dad's told Dumbledore that it's on'y a mild case. But anyway, I've got to pay a visit to Diagon Alley in the next couple o' days and I'm going to take you three with me. You'll be going back to the Burrow fer Christmas a day early."

"Wait…that's the day after tomorrow…" Ron calculated nervously.

"Hagrid, when you say we are going with you…do you mean that we are going to Diagon Alley?" asked Hermione.

"Oh yeah…sorry 'bout that. We'll be travelling by the Floo Network to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. After that I'll be saying my goodbyes and heading off. I don' know the plan fer you after that," Hagrid concluded.

Meanwhile Crabbe and Goyle had finished a large breakfast and were now staring across the Slytherin table at an abnormally pink-in-the-face Draco Malfoy.

"Er, Malfoy?"

"What?" snapped Malfoy, annoyed at being interrupted from his wistful thoughts concerning a particular person.

"What was it that you wanted us to do for you again?" asked Goyle, staring at Malfoy's flushed face with his mouth slightly open.

"Oh right," replied Malfoy, returning to composure. "I want you to use this to spy on Granger. Find out if anything is happening between her and Weasel King."

Malfoy slid a piece of parchment across the table towards Crabbe. There was a spell written on the parchment: _Capturo Senarius_

"I can't read that Malfoy. You know I've had a bad eye ever since Goyle sprayed his Polyjuice Po-"

"Shut it will you?," Malfoy hissed. "The plan is simple. All I am asking you to do is follow Hermione after we leave Potions class tomorrow. And if you see her interacting with Weasley in a manner that indicates romantic attachment, cast _Capturo Senarius_ and you will capture the scene you are viewing, enabling me to watch the footage at my leisure later today."

After a particularly successful Potions lesson (with the aid of the Half-Blood Prince of course), on the day before the trio were scheduled to depart for Diagon Alley, Harry, Ron and Hermione made their way out of the dungeons and towards the Great Hall for a warming lunch consisting of Yorkshire pudding and pumpkin soup. Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle kept their eyes on Hermione as she settled down along the Gryffindor table. Crabbe and Goyle were ladling fourth helpings of soup into their bowls when Malfoy signalled for them to make a move: Hermione was leaving the hall and to the delight of the three Slytherins, was unaccompanied; this would make the operation simpler.

Hermione had informed Harry and Ron that she had to discuss a translation with her Ancient Runes professor, Batusheda Babbling and as a result had to leave lunch earlier than usual. This of course, was the truth; however she also felt that she needed time alone to ponder a few pressing thoughts…_Patter…scuffle…_Hermione whipped around, casting her eyes down the corridor…it appeared to be empty…was someone following her? _Maybe it was a house elf…or a mouse_, Hermione pondered. The apparent source of the disturbance soon became clear as Crookshanks sauntered up to his owner and began to meow. Hermione lifted the fluffy cat into the air and nuzzled her face into his soft fur.

"_Capturo Senarius!"_ Hermione dropped Crookshanks who hissed angrily and trotted at a considerable clip up the corridor and disappeared behind a tapestry. This time Hermione was positive that she had heard something. She was straightening up after peering behind a particularly solemn-looking bust when a voice behind her caused her to bump her head on the ceiling of the bust's alcove. Turning around Hermione found herself staring down into the face of Professor Flitwick.

"Is everything alright Ms. Granger?" questioned the Professor squeakily.

"Oh, yes everything is fine Professor. I thought that I heard someone casting a spell in the corridor…"

"Ah the culprit seems to have retreated in the face of a prefect and a Professor," chuckled Professor Flitwick.

"Yes…well in any case Professor, I was heading towards the staffroom to speak to Professor Babbling."

Crabbe and Goyle crept from their hiding places as Hermione and Professor Flitwick turned a corner, their voices fading from earshot.

"Did you see that Goyle eh?"

"No Crabbe, I was behind the tapestry…and now that I think about it…I should have hid somewhere where I could see what was happening…"

"Well it doesn't matter now because I saw everything! Granger was snogging some red headed kid near that suit of armour. Oho, Malfoy is not going to be too pleased about this…but that might mean that we get to take care of the Weasley kid…"

"Crabbe…are you sure because I only heard one person…and you've only got one good eye these days…" Goyle finished, squinting at his friend suspiciously.

"Aye! I saw it with my own eye!" stated Crabbe as though this settled the matter.

Hermione had had little time to think about anything other than completing her assignments and homework before the end of the term (which happened to be this very day) and was busily packing her textbooks and novels (both muggle and magical) in her trunk for transportation to the Burrow for the Christmas holiday. Ron and Harry met Hermione and Ginny in the Gryffindor common room before venturing forth from its warmth, trunks in tow, towards the oak front doors and Hagrid's cabin beyond. At the threshold leading out of the Entrance Hall, yells issuing from the entrance to the dungeons caused the small procession to stop and listen. The yells continued and were soon joined by the sound of heavy footsteps climbing the stairs out of the dungeons. Seconds later, Malfoy skidded out onto the flagstone floor, followed closely by Crabbe and Goyle. Harry, Ron, Ginny and Hermione watched as he ran across the Entrance Hall, glanced at them, and continued to run in the direction of the Great Hall. He had just disappeared into the Hall when he reappeared, completing his double-take. He proceeded by walking quickly towards the four Gryffindors huddled at the entrance to the castle with an ugly grimace on his pale face, his eyes alight with malice.

"She's mine Weasley!" Malfoy spat at Ron.

"What the-," uttered a wide-eyed Ron.

"And don't pretend that you don't know what I'm talking about either! Crabbe saw you two in the corridor yesterday…you were…urgh...," Malfoy shuddered, unable to voice his accusation.

"If there's something you want to say Malfoy, then hurry up and say it," started Harry.

"I can explain," said Goyle, smirking. "Me and Crabbe caught her and Weasley in the corridor yesterday." Goyle pointed a large finger accusingly at Hermione.

"That didn't explain anything!" exclaimed and exasperated Ginny.

"He's raving," Ron uttered in an awed tone.

"Hermione's mine Weasley. So keep your filthy hands off her!" shouted Malfoy.

Ron turned to face Hermione so quickly that he almost hurt his neck.

"Hermione?" Ron stared at her as though he had never seen her before. All of the colour drained from his face.

Before Hermione could even start to speak…

_Capturo Senarius! _

A burst of coloured light erupted from Crabbe's wand under Malfoy's command and formed rectangular shape in mid-air. Everyone present stared as the burst of light gave way to an image, projected by the wand. Hermione could be seen walking along the third floor corridor. Crookshanks sauntered up to his owner and Hermione lifted him into the air, nuzzling her face into his fur. The film then faded from existence.

A stunned silence followed. Crabbe and Goyle stared at each other and gulped in unison.

Malfoy was looking livid; "That- was- a- CAT!"

After the nastiest grimace Malfoy had ever produced, he streaked towards the entrance to the dungeons without another word.

"You mean…Crabbe and Goyle told Malfoy that Hermione and Ron were…" Harry began, breaking into a wide grin.

Ron ears were now burning beetroot. He directed his speech towards Hermione, "Then that rubbish that Malfoy was saying about you belonging to him…it was really just rubbish?"

Hermione had had just about enough of being treated as though she was someone's object to be owned.

"That you would even consider the possibility that he was speaking the truth…" Hermione spluttered, tears threatening to spill down her flushed cheeks.

And without another word, Hermione grasped the handle of her heavy trunk and walked determinedly out into the snowy morning.

**A/N: Next chapter should be up as soon as possible: Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and the Burrow******

**Reviews are always appreciated! **


	5. Being Alone

**Chapter Five: ****Being Alone **

**A/N: Sorry guys! I decided not to elaborate on the visit in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. When I first had the idea to write about a visit to the shop, I was feeling a little more cheery. Now though, I feel like concentrating on the more meaningful feelings and themes within the story. I've been crying a lot today…I feel like pouring some of my feelings into Hermione (sorry Hermy!). **

After stepping carefully out of the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes fire place, George informed the new arrivals that they would be travelling to the Burrow as soon as Mr. Weasley arrived to aid in the transportation of Fred to their family home. Hermione was desperate to lay down on one of Molly's crocheted blankets and close her eyes, which were still stinging with the residue of the salty tears that had frozen on her face as she trudged across the icy grounds to Hagrid's hut. The warmth of the home and the smell of a delicious pudding welcomed Hermione to the Burrow in the most pleasant way. However, even as Molly embraced Hermione lovingly and beamed up into her brown eyes, Hermione could not help feeling as though she would rather have her own mother smoothing her wild hair. It was as though her heart had been left outside in the icy wind. Hermione excused herself, walked up one flight of stairs, entered the bathroom and sat down on the fluffy material covering the toilet lid. Then she dropped her rucksack and rested her head in her hands, her hair cascading over her face. Hermione sighed; her fervent desire to be alone had been fulfilled. Now she could cry if she wanted to. Hermione tried to breathe deeply, but it proved difficult to do so in the perfumed, overheated room. She stood to open the small window for fresh air and noticed a small picture in a heart-shaped frame. Forgetting about the lack of oxygen, Hermione snatched the picture from the sill and seated herself once again, staring at the moving image. The picture was definitely recent. There was a beaming Ron; but he was not alone. Draped around his shoulders was a beautiful girl with dazzling grey eyes and fine, silvery-blonde hair. Hermione turned the frame over and ripped out the backing with haste. Her hands shaking, Hermione lifted the picture from the glass and squinted at the small writing on the back: Ron Weasley and Rochelle Delacour – At wedding of Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour.

Hermione dropped the photo and stared miserably at the wall as though begging for some form of comfort. Those feelings had returned; the feelings of annoyance and jealousy that constricted Hermione's throat whenever Ron gazed at Fleur with rapture. Hermione wished that Ron would not be so indecisive! There were many times when Hermione was sure that her loving feelings were mutual; but then, if he loved her, why did he succumb to the beauty and seductiveness of the Delacour women every time, without fail?

At times it seemed impossible that she should feel so strongly about Ron; but then at other times, it was not hard at all to understand why Ron meant so much to her. She supposed that love could not always be explained, and that the notion of loving another was interpreted differently by every individual. When everything was going well between herself and Ron, she often dreamed about his face being close to hers, so close that she could his every freckle and he her own. At times like these, she felt like confiding her feelings of love and elation in Ginny or even Harry; but instead she kept her love a secret, and it became a small candle burning brightly inside her. At these times it made Hermione feel special that she was the only one who knew about her candle. Why was it that she had never proclaimed her feelings aloud? Hermione knew why. It was because a small voice named fear always made itself known at these times; reminding Hermione that it would be foolish to express her feelings. What if Ron did not feel the same way? And right now, Hermione was succumbing to her fear and her insecurity. She stood and walked slowly over the mirror, staring forlornly at her reflection. Her eyebrows were ruffled, her lips were cracked and her skin was dry. Hermione thought of Rochelle Delacour's delicate face as she stared at her own. Tears began to leak down her cheeks. Hermione walked slowly back to the toilet seat and plonked herself down before beginning to cry in earnest, her whole body shaking with her sharp and uneven breaths. After a short time, Hermione's downpour was interrupted by a sharp knock at the door followed by the voice of the last person on Earth Hermione wanted to see at that moment.

"'Ello? Iz enyone in zere?'"

It was Fleur. Hermione hesitated before clearing her throat and trying to sound cheerful.

"Oh, hello Fleur. It's Hermione. I will be out in a minute. Sorry."

"Oh, zat is alright 'ermione. When you are out, can you come to ze kitchen? I 'ave some exciting news to tell you."

Hermione listened for Fleur's footsteps. She was no longer outside the door. Hermione walked over to the sink to wash her face and hydrate herself with cold water. Then, she practiced her cheery smile in the mirror and smoothed her hair before heading downstairs.

**A/N: I have just started to read Fruits Basket manga .. Kyo and Tohru are a little like Ron and Hermione! **


	6. A Witch's Encounters

**Chapter Six: A Witch's Encounters**

**A/N: I hope that everyone is finding the characterisation to be accurate…I have to admit…I haven't read more than a few pages of my Harry Potter novels since finishing Deathly Hallows. And as a result of reading many different books since finishing the seventh novel, I hope that I do not begin to confuse the character traits of Ron and Hermione with those of other characters. However after reading the Harry Potter series many times, and eventually feeling at one with the characters and their emotions, I no longer have to think very hard about the way in which the characters would react to particular situations. I hope that everyone is satisfied with the ending; I would love for you to share your thoughts with me…I have enjoyed writing this story. And it makes me so happy that many people have enjoyed reading it! **

**Alright then, talks to self stop raving on! **

Upon entering the kitchen, Hermione was ushered by Fleur into a chair around the dining table beside Ron, who followed Hermione's movements with his eyes. Hermione felt her face prickle and burn with embarrassment and self-consciousness; however she was satisfied that Ron had noticed her absence. Once Molly had settled herself down on the last available stool, Fleur stood at one end of the scrubbed table and cleared her throat, silencing her chattering audience.

"Now zat we are all 'ere, I must tell you ze purpose of 'zis conversation. My dear papa is holding a marvellous ball commemorating ze prestigious and internationally recognised magical events of ze twentieth century. Of course, I am representing ze Triwizard Tournament and so is 'arry. Fleur clasped her hands under her chin and gazed wistfully into the distance. "It will be so grand," she sighed. Regaining composure, Fleur smiled radiantly at her audience, "You are all invited, of course!"

Without contemplating her next action, Hermione began to speak.

"I'm sorry Fleur. I don't particularly like balls. Would you mind terribly if I declined your invitation?"

Everyone had turned to stare at Hermione. Many of the Weasley's had raised their eyebrows at Hermione and Harry also appeared bewildered. Ginny seemed as though she was about to speak, however it was Ron that began his appeal first.

"Hermione," he said gently, "I know that you are thinking about the Yule, and yeah, I'll be the first to admit that it was a disaster. But this time it will be better, I know it will be."

It was clear to Hermione that Ron was feeling remorseful in regard to his behaviour of the morning. He was making a large effort to be kind and Hermione appreciated his thoughtfulness. The truth was that the anger and jealousy harboured by Hermione and directed towards Fleur and her sisters had caused her initial refusal of the invitation. Hermione did not think that she could bear to watch Ron 'fraternizing with the enemy' at this particular ball, especially since the event would be swarming with Delacour beauties dressed in their finest.

Hermione's thoughts were interrupted by Fleur's distressed voice.

"Oh, 'ermione, it would sadden me greatly if you did not join us at my papa's ball. And you 'ad such a wonderful time at ze Yule Ball did you not? Why are you declining my invitation? Iz it moi? Iz zere something zat I 'ave done to upset you?"

Hermione interrupted Fleur's relentless questioning by stating that she would consider attending the event. Hermione's consent pleased Fleur, and she was able to regain composure before concluding her speech with one last question.

"Oh, zat is right! Papa says that zere is a theme to ze ball. Everyone must dress in ze formal attire of ze Muggles! You think zat zis is a good idea 'ermione, do you not?"

Hermione awoke at eleven o'clock on Friday morning to a sharp rapping on the door of Ginny's cramped bedroom. Lifting her head off of the pillow and glancing in the direction of her feet (Hermione and Ginny had slept in the head-to-toe manner), Hermione noticed that Ginny had left the room.

"Come in," Hermione called in a would-be-cheerful, early morning voice (or late morning in this case) as she brushed away the strands of hair that were stuck to her right cheek.

Ginny entered in a flurry of orange, navy blue and green and proceeded by glancing around the room as though hoping to see Hermione sitting by the mirror and brushing her hair. After scanning the room, Ginny was forced to accept that Hermione had slept through the entire morning of excitement and bustle that normally accompanied preparations for a grand event. Ginny regrettably tilted her head to stare prudishly at the tousled figure in her nightdress lying topsy-turvy in her bed. Hermione looked up at Ginny with a grimace (although it was supposed to be a smile).

"Oh for heavens sake, Hermione! Can you not find the energy to be excited about anything these days? After all, this is the day of Fleur's ball! You should be…well… at least you should have climbed out of my bed by now!"

With these words, Hermione promptly buried her face in Ginny's pillow. Ginny's prudish glare softened and she came to kneel by the bed.

"Hermione…," she began in a softer tone. "Hermione, I am sorry for losing my temper just now. It is just… I wish that you could be excited about this. It's difficult for me to be excited when I know that you aren't."

"I don't want to be around Fleur and her family…," Hermione mumbled through the pillow.

Ginny laughed bitterly.

"And you think that I do? I am not going to this event because of Phlegm and her sisters. And I know that you think that they will turn the event into a miserable experience…but Hermione, if you stay true to who you are and believe in yourself, in your self-worth, in your own beauty, then there is no reason why those women should prevent you from enjoying the night. Search for the positives and turn up your nose at the negatives, look for the rose petal lying in the gutter and not the dragon dung."

Hermione lifted her head off the pillow and smiled toothily at Ginny, her last comment was something she would expect only from a member of the Weasley clan.

"Oh, and I almost forgot…," continued Ginny, a sly smile appearing on her face.

"Yes?"

Eyeing Hermione beadily, Ginny stated, "How do you expect to stop Ron from blubbering over Phlegm and Co. if you are moping around in my room eating a big carton of fruit cake gelato?"

"Which of those two dresses am I to wear?" replied Hermione after only a second's delay.

Ginny grinned widely and offered Hermione the blue dress she had been cradling in her arms.

Hermione and Ginny entered the grand dining room at the Delacour Chateau holding hands. The grand room had been cleared of furnishings aside from the cherry wood dining chairs draped in grey silk that lined the walls. In an attempt to remain true to the muggle theme, Fleur's papa had organized for a woodwind quartet to play a handful of mesmerizing melodies composed by various muggle musicians accompanied by the vocal talents of none other than one of the Delacour cousins. The young woman winked with a sparkling grey eye at the Weasleys, Hermione and Harry as they seated themselves in one corner of the room to wait for Fleur to introduce them to her father. (Fleur was busily adjusting her jeweled hair clip in the small toilette outside the dining room). Hermione glanced over at Ron who was staring at the songstress with a slightly opened mouth and a blank expression on his face. She squeezed Ginny's hand tightly in her anger.

"Aye! Hermione, what was that for?" questioned Ginny indignantly.

"Oh, sorry Ginny," replied Hermione, trying to manage a smile.

Ginny gave her a withering look that clearly said, 'lighten up!'. However, this was easier said than done; especially if Ron had already fallen into the clutches of the Delacour women.

Before Fleur had entered the dining room, a small and plump man came bustling up to the group and beamed at each of the new arrivals with rosy cheeks, displaying several silver teeth. He had a glass of rich mead in one fat hand while the other, adorned with silvery jewels, smoothed the grey hair on the dome of his head.

"Ello to you all! I know that you are my Fleur's 'onoured guests zis evening and I am most exuberant to have 'ad the pleasure of meeting you all. My name is Algernon Delacour and if I can be of any 'elp at all, please do not 'esitate to let me know."

Everyone nodded and smiled warmly in gratitude of Algernon's hospitality.

"I 'ear you arrived 'ere in zis glorious country by portkey? I am correct am I not?" Algernon continued.

George piped up. "Yes, we did, and a jolly long spin it was too! The girls were lucky that their dresses didn't blow off in that streamline!"

Hermione was brought out of her reverie by these words. "George!" she scolded.

But Algernon just chuckled heartily, his large belly heaving. Harry was reminded fervently of Professor Slughorn; all Algernon needed now was a little dish of crystallized pineapple and he would be complete. With that, Algernon bid the gathering an 'au revoir for now' and hurried off into the midst of his chattering guests.

Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Harry, George and Fleur had hurtled through time and space that afternoon, arriving in the grounds of the Delacour Chateau in the Picardie countryside in time to watch the soft, pink light of the sun fade from the horizon. To arrange a portkey to France from the United Kingdom was no simple matter, and it was Hermione's belief that Algernon had spent a great amount of galleons to allow for their transportation. The novelty of this visit to the French countryside left Hermione with an intense longing to explore the region of Picardie.

Ginny's attention shifted to the green eyed and black haired boy next to her as the others dispersed throughout the grand dining room, even Ron had left his seat to fetch a glass of punch. Fleetingly, Hermione considered joining Ron at the punch fountain and informing him that she had forgiven him for his errors earlier in the week. However, after one purposeful step in the direction of her friend, Hermione spotted a Delacour beauty milling around the punch fountain, seemingly attempting to catch Ron's wondering eyes. Within an instant Hermione felt completely nauseated and decided to retire to the balcony to breathe the crisp night air. As she gazed out into the velvety blackness of the night, tears burning in her eyes once more, she felt the presence of another behind her. Turning around, Hermione recognized the wizard facing her even before his face had appeared from out of the shadows of a jasmine vine.

"Viktor," Hermione croaked.

"Hello Hermione. I vas hoping that you vould be here tonight," Viktor Krum spoke in a velvety tone. "You look…exquisite," he continued, ending his praise in a whispered tone.

Hermione could not pinpoint exactly what it was that Viktor was looking for, but if it was a hearty conversation, Hermione was certainly not feeling cheery enough at that moment. However, Hermione was aware of the fact that a less-than-warm greeting would be considerably rude, especially since she had not seen Viktor for two years. Walking up to the tall Bulgarian, Hermione extended a hand in greeting. Viktor, who seemed to have been expected a friendly peck on the cheek was slightly taken aback, stepping back into the shadow of the vine.

He spoke from his shadow-shrouded position, "Who is it that you have come with tonight? Are you in the company of a partner?"

"No. No I am not…"

"Ah…I see. In this case, vould you consider taking a valk in the grounds vith me?"

"Oh Viktor, I know you will think I am being terribly rude in declining your offer…it is just that I am feeling slightly sick and well…if you will excuse me, I am just going to go to the bathroom."

With that, Hermione left the balcony and walked swiftly across the dining room towards the entrance to the hall and the outdoors, fleetingly catching Ron's eye as she stepped over the threshold into the hall. No, she would not speak to him now. No, she could not tell him how she felt! Not here, not now. She had envisaged the moment of confession many times; but never had she dreamed of having to admit her feelings to Ron in Fleur Delacour's home of all places. No. Ron would wait. Hermione knew he would. He wouldn't do anything that he might regret later. He would not leave the dining room in search of a quieter place whilst clasping an elegant French hand. No. He wouldn't. He just wouldn't! Hermione was now feeling thoroughly ill and had acquired a pounding headache just above her eyes. With a renewed thirst for the fresh air of the Picardie countryside, Hermione hurried out into the grounds, removing her shoes as she walked across the uneven ground, determined to find a quiet place to think. Soon, Hermione was able to settle down beneath a large birch tree, sinking onto the ground at the base of the trunk. A single bird chirped from within an oleander bush before taking flight. Hermione watched the bird fly towards the chateau before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Upon lifting her heavy eyelids once more, Hermione realized just how exhausted she was. Sinking lower onto the ground, she yawned and closed her eyes. She welcomed sleep; there, she did not worry. There, her overwrought mind was able to rest. However, just as the sounds of the night were fading from Hermione's ears, an icy cold hand grazed her arm and came to rest on her shoulder. Hermione awoke from semi-consciousness with a jolt and turned her head quickly to gaze at the person who had now come to rest beside her: Viktor Krum.

"What are you doing…," Hermione asked, squinting at Viktor through the gloom, her eyes regaining focus.

"Vat do you think I am doing? Vat do you think I vant?" Viktor ran his cold hand down Hermione's arm, his long fingernails scratching her skin and causing goose bumps to form on her arm.

Within a second, adrenaline had rushed to Hermione's legs and she knew what she had to do. This person was a stranger to her, an alien. This wasn't the Viktor that she remembered…or was it that she had been ignorant of his true intentions two years ago? Pulling out her wand and pointing it at Viktor's chest, Hermione cried "_Stupefy!_" before bounding across the grounds in the direction of the chateau, her cheeks shining with cascading tears. A barefoot Hermione stumbled into the house and made for the nearest quiet room. In the hallway, her vision impaired by salty tears, Hermione spotted a red headed figure walking down the corridor and called out the name of the person she had been thinking about all night. However, it was Ginny that hurried towards her.

"Hermione! What happened? You're a mess!" exclaimed Ginny as she stared at Hermione's bare feet.

Hermione, who was feeling so confused and forlorn, did not know what to say. Instead, in a very quiet and weak voice, Hermione uttered his name again.

"Okay. I will go and fetch him. You wait right here."

She was going to fetch him. And despite the cold draft sweeping through the hallway, there was a very warm place in the centre of Hermione's chest. Then he appeared. There he was. What would she do? What would she say? Hermione was too overwhelmed to think about any of this at the present moment. And then, in a spurt of exhausted ness, Hermione leant forward and rested her forehead on his arm. Just that was enough, just being that close to him was enough; he made her feel warm and light. And then it was Ron's turn. Extending his arms around Hermione's body, he pulled her close to him. He was so warm, and Hermione never wanted him to let go. Then, Hermione felt Ron's breath in her ear.

"It's only you," he whispered.

**The End! **

**Reviews appreciated, as well as criticisms! ******

**I hope that the ending was not too cliché or 'cheesy'…however this is the way that I have always wanted it to end.**


End file.
